


A Shiver Down the Neck

by Porkchop_Sandwiches



Series: Story Time [2]
Category: Breaking Bad
Genre: Episode: s02e09 Four Days Out, M/M, One Shot Collection, Tumblr Prompt, first of longer collection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-08
Updated: 2015-07-08
Packaged: 2018-04-08 08:17:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4297392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Porkchop_Sandwiches/pseuds/Porkchop_Sandwiches
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Walt wants to be warm. Tensions have been boiling over. Maybe this would be healthier than throttling each other.</p>
<p>Set during Season 2 Episode 9 "Four Days Out" and yes there are a number of these, but I wanted to do one too :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Shiver Down the Neck

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first entry in a collection of Walt/Jesse smutty one-shots that have been requested from my Tumblr inbox. Some will be longer than one "chapter." All will be Walt/Jesse at least partially naked good times.
> 
> Here is the prompt for this one: "4 Days Out" when Walt and Jesse have to huddle to keep warm. Walt loves sleeping in Jesse's hoodies because they smell like him, although he won't admit it. Jesse's asleep but ends up rutting against Walt and he feels so protected in his big arms and Jesse kisses him."
> 
> I ended up twisting it a little :)

Walt has one dusty boot toeing the threshold of death. He's standing at the door of Hell's industrial-sized, walk-in freezer that's predictably waiting to snap shut behind him and lock him in here until insomnia, frost bite, and righteous indignation ultimately beat out the cancer. Choking back a cough, he can actually see his breath in this rickety scrap of shit RV that’s letting in the night chill through its thin, uninsulated, metal sides. He was an idiot for not bringing more blankets and a decent jacket and a partner who knows not to leave the damn key in the ignition. 

  
Pulling up the silk-lined border of the only blanket that was feasible for nabbing from the hall closet undetected by Skyler, he wonders how on earth he can still feel how irritably scratchy the rest of the material is through two layers of clothing. The moon is bright even with the blinds drawn, and he enviably watches Jesse sleep on his back with his face slightly turned to Walt. He’s practically swaddled in a Bob Marley throw blanket and his garish outerwear, having brought so many hoodies splattered in loud graphics and metallic designs that the boy has one just lying carelessly on the floor like his son's dirty laundry. Walt feels another shiver run down the back of his neck and thinks “fuck it” as he grabs the thing and tugs the article on that’s perhaps only one and a half sizes too large for him. Once he has it zipped, he’s enveloped in the smell of pancake syrup and cigarettes and it instantly reminds him of dinning at an IHOP with one of his first girlfriends as a teenager when things like smoking sections had yet to be invented and then prohibited. He presses his nose into the cotton side of the hood he has pulled over his head and there’s a definite lingering of marijuana and Doritos and some sort of trendy men’s body spray. It smells like the boy and that’s oddly more comforting than the flickering of memories he has of that IHOP. 

  
The hoodie has warmed him to a degree but he’s still cold. Turning over on his side and adjusting back a little to find a not-so-horrible position, he accidentally knocks into Jesse who murmurs something unintelligible and Walt can hear Jesse lick his lips. He intends to scoot over to give the boy more room when he feels a wall of warmth coat his back and a limp arm drop across his chest and a knee gently slotting its way between his calves. In under three seconds he has a mental pro-con list of this new development. Pro: Walt is now warm, he has body heat and an additional blanket and he’s warm. Con: the boy is wrapped entirely around him, Walt has been unintentionally physically manipulated into acting as little spoon, and he can feel Jesse hard against his backside. 

 

Walt has never felt a dick, flaccid or erect or any sort of in-between state anywhere close to his body aside from the one permanently attached to him. But, Walt is warm. He’ll ignore it and take a deep inhale of the hoodie and not exactly pull away when Jesse’s arm constricts and grips Walt’s chest closer to him like Walt is some stuffed puppy or bear Jesse won at a carnival. It’s quite simple falling asleep. 

  
He doesn’t wake up until he feels rested even though it’s still incredibly dark other than the moon-glow inside the RV. He’s toasty, joints relaxed, and he's somehow rolled over onto his other side as if his sleeping body couldn’t accept being submissively held in such a manner. He now has an armful of the boy, and he’s never found the term “boy” more fitting as Jesse is _truly_ tiny with his baggy layers flattened to his body and his cheekbones standing out and his nose elfish and delicate. Jesse’s skin looks a touch flushed and without thinking Walt leans forward. He brushes soft, messy hair from Jesse’s invitingly warm forehead and Jesse does that murmuring-lip-licking thing in his sleep again, though this time they’re close enough for Walt to feel just a dab, the very vertex of the muscle in Jesse's mouth, a small trail of damp tongue slide against his collarbone. The sensation is soon paired with Jesse languidly grinding against Walt’s crotch with bent knees and…

  
Oh…

  
_No._

Walt is hard.

He’s popped an erection faster than he has in years and Walt wants to move away but it would require removing his body from a snug, tepid, nearly balmy sleeping bag into below freezing temperatures. Walt would be an idiot to do something like that. So what if his former student is unintentionally and shamelessly humping him in his sleep? The boy is as stiff as he was when Walt had his back to him. He could probably benefit from a little release. They both could. Tensions have been boiling over. Maybe this would be healthier than throttling each other.

  
Walt gently tips his hips up into Jesse’s rhythmic movements when the boy’s eyes sleepily blink open, low and satisfied hum behind his lips, and then his pupils widen in horror.

Jesse is lying absolutely still, glances down, back up. Walt is grateful for physics, for how in the nature of rolling and shifting, Walt doesn't look to be at fault here as Jesse is slightly more on top. It absolves him from the guilt Jesse's wearing on his face like an adolescent just caught masturbating.

  
“Yo, sorry,” Jesse says.

His voice is scratchy like Walt’s blanket, but thicker and more appealing.

  
Walt has already started to leak with anticipation and he’s much too edgy to stop proceeding now even if the recipient of the next tentative roll of his pelvis is Jesse, maybe especially since it’s this blue-eyed boy who fanned him and gave him a cup of water and seemed deeply concerned with his cancer diagnoses. Jesse with lips that perpetually look licked and soft even as he’s spouting something irksome or petulant or asinine. The boy who aligns with the crooks and bends of Walt's tired, fifty-year-old body like the metal teeth of a zipped-snug zipper.

  
Walt moves forward into the crease of denim and Jesse ruts into him as well and soon they’re rubbing against one another as if they were a pair of confused, sleepy, horny puppies.

  
“It’s…it ain’t gay,” Jesse mumbles when Walt accidentally makes eye contact. “Just feels good, right?”

  
Jesse's expression is so desperately imploring for some sort of reassurance here. Walt nods, much more confident in his own sexuality to fairly not give a damn about such menial societal constructs. 

  
He palms Jesse’s ass through the boy’s back pocket, shoving them closer together and breathes out, “ _Very_ good.”

  
He’s telling the truth. The friction along the head of Walt’s cock is delicious and rough and whoever said dry humping was an activity to abandon once one lost their virginity should be taken somewhere in the desert and shot. Walt hasn’t felt this aroused in much too long.  

  
“Should…we…take ‘em out?” Jesse says. He’s incredibly unsure and oddly soft-spoken and innocent and not looking at Walt directly. “We could rub ‘em together, like I saw it in a porno once and like it looked kind of gay but also sort of like it’d feel pretty dope.”

  
Walt doesn’t understand what part of two men rubbing their genitalia together is only “kind of” gay or what Jesse was doing watching that sort of movie, but he shakes his head.

  
“We’d lose body heat,” he says, still thrusting forward.

  
“Yeah, totally.”

  
Jesse nods, chews on his lip, rests his cheek sleepily on Walt’s chest even as he’s undulating his hips down in a hypnotic, liquid, feminine fashion that has Walt moaning. The boy tosses him a cautious glance and a reluctant sort of smirk and it’s enough for Walt to once again think “fuck it” as he maneuvers Jesse’s fly open and withdraws the boy's erection much quicker than Walt thought he'd ever want to before doing the same with his own. 

  
It’s beyond odd feeling another man’s privates in his hand and even more so against his cock, but they’re both wet at this point, both sticky and warm, both throbbing for release. Jesse is slicker than a woman and there's a strange, almost novel appeal to glide against something equally solid and straining and pulsing against him. If Walt were honest, it feels quite wonderful.

  
He feels Jesse’s spindly, little hands wrap around them both and Jesse is doing most of the rutting for them. The boy does some adjusting to make their slits slide together and Jesse beads up with a warm spurt as his cock seems to explore Walt's like the curious snout of a dog. Jesse is pumping his hands just right and their shafts are flush now and this might genuinely be the most erotic thing Walt has ever experienced. 

  
“You’re smaller than me, Mr. White,” Jesse says with a snicker.

  
Walt wouldn’t go announcing it or anything, but Jesse is correct. The boy’s dick is roughly two inches longer and perhaps an inch or so thicker. He might be more embarrassed if he didn’t have an orgasm approaching at a sprint-like pace. 

  
Jesse groans. “Shit this feels like gayer than I thought it would.” He huffs out a breath and hikes a leg up on Walt’s hip and they can grind even more fully together, balls softly smacking, and Walt swears they both moan this time. “Feels more awesome than I thought too.”

  
Walt wants to come so badly and it’s so slippery between them and so good. 

  
Jesse is eying him cautiously again. He’s tipping his face up. He kisses Walt oh so chastely on the mouth. 

  
With one last jerk of his hips, Walt nearly explodes like he’s trying to flood the boy’s hands and saturate Jesse’s skin and the boy uses Walt’s gaping mouth to slip his tongue inside and rut into the slickness still spurting out of him.

Jesse shudders and pulls away and hisses, “ _Shit, Mr. White_ ” as he comes just as thickly against Walt’s softening erection.

  
Walt’s actually shaking so intensely that it’s Jesse who's left to clean them with Walt’s horrible blanket before zipping them both back up and throwing the blanket off in favor of the softer throw Jesse brought that smells even more like marijuana than his hoodie. The boy’s eyelids look droopy as he takes Walt’s arm to hug himself like he wishes for Walt to hold him as Jesse rubs the tremors from Walt’s body. Then they’re both still and clinging to one another and Jesse is practically nestled into him.

  
Maybe Walt appears a little amazed because Jesse groggily raises both eyebrows from his position against Walt’s shoulder and says, “Stop looking at me and go back to sleep, Asshole.”

  
Walt hugs the boy a little tighter and shuts his eyes.

  
And Walt is warm.  

 


End file.
